[A Key To Any Door]

[John 15]

Leonardo just stood by and watched conversations happen here and there. The one female in the room had yet to say anything during this whole meeting; what a silent person she was. The young mercenary still had the glass of wine held in his hand, although it was pretty much empty. He took his last sip of his wine and placed the empty glass on the nearest flat surface he could find. This Syven lad spoke once more and he listened intently to whatever he had to say. They were gestured to come out of the room and follow the leading knight. The raven haired boy nodded and did what was expected: leave the room without causing a disturbance. As Leon entered the corridor, the knight stopped the same squire that led them to this very room. He asked for a few unusual items and be packed onto a horse. The items were requested by their lizard-friend, Stilio.

Syven then turned around and gave a brief history of the town called La Cierra. He also talked about infected animals, also known as the undead. To defeat these monsters, cutting the head or "bashing" it, as he was told, would result in the defeat of such monsters. Before continuing to walk, Syven told the group to ... pretty much avoid getting bitten by any of these monsters. Leon followed the knight, walking around the corridors. They finally reached the stables and were outside. Leon stretched his arms high up to the sky, arcing his back as he did. He let out a small stretch groan and then followed by a yawn. Clearly he was excited. It wasn't that he was bored, but tired. [i]" I should have slept more last night. "[/i] He told himself.

As he looked at Syven, he found him next to a horse. Leon decided to do the same and walk up to one of them. The stallion was very much taller and bigger than he was. They were quite a majestic specie. Leon opens up one out of the three packs and searches through them. [i]" Handy. "[/i] Leon grabbed the saddle, bent his knees slightly, then jumped onto the horse with one leg swinging wider than the other. His left leg landed on the left side of the four legged animal and his right just on the opposite side. He hears Syven give directions and even though his leader couldn't see, the mercenary nodded. Leon petted the horse on its head before moving forward. The mercenary stayed close behind the knight as they worked their way into the city and out of the castle grounds.

[b]" So what led you to become a knight, Syven? "[/b]

Leon decided to make small talk and get to know his company.

[A Decadent Intruder 1]

Stifling a yawn, Sida listens as more facts and pointers come pouring out of this Syven character. From the looks of things, he seems to be the leader. When the reptilian man asks for musical instruments, she mask what otherwise would have been a laugh.
[I][COLOR="#FF8C00"]We'll be in the centre of a land crawling with who knows what that's looking to do us harm, and he wants to make more noise. That's exactly what the quest needs.[/COLOR][/I]

Her yawn finally escapes her as they exit the room, following Syven to the stables where the horses are being prepared. She rubs her cropped hair and blinks in the sun, her eyes crinkling as they adjust. Making her way over to a dark horse, she holds out her hand. She can hear the murmurs of some of the others speaking, but she doesn't listen. The horse lifts his giant muzzle to her hand and moves his whiskered lips along her fingers, expecting her to be holding a treat of some kind.
She can feel the beasts hot breath as she rubs his velvety soft nose, running her hand up to the tuft of mane that begins near the front of his head and pats him firmly.

"Sorry boy, all I've got his dried meat and brewing herbs. A little bitter for your taste."

The horse stomps a front hoof and lifts his head against her hand, his large shining eyes looking at her. Being as small as she is, her height topping at around 5'3" - 5'4", animals usually aren't very threatened around her. She runs her hand along his hard body and coarse coat as she walks down the side of him, just going over the saddle straps, checking buckles and snaps as she moves towards his tail. She's sure that whoever saddled him was doing their job correctly, but she's never been one to hop on a saddled horse without double checking, even if it was her own work.

Flipping open the buckles of the saddle bags, her nose fills with the scent of warm leather as she rummages lightly through them. It had crossed her mind to toss her side pack into one of the saddle bags as she rode, but as she looks through them, she begins to realize that they're stocked far better than her own pack, which merely contains a drinking skin, some dried meat, herbs, dried insects and other small items and vials for potion brewing, and her own fire starters.
Since she knows they'll be leaving the horses at some point, she slips a few items from the saddle bags into her own personal pack. After deftly buckling it shut, she slides it back beneath her fox fur cape and then re-buckles the saddle bag.

Lifting her leg into the stirrup and taking a hold of the saddle horn, she swings her free leg over the horse in one swift movement and seats herself a top the animal. Giving the side of his thick neck a rough pat, she rearranges her bow and quiver on her back and takes a hold of the reins.

Sida looks up to Syven, expecting another dragging explanation of where they're going and why and what to do when they get there, but as her searching eyes find him, she sees that he's already atop his horse and beginning off down the road.

[I] "We'll be riding South West along the main road. Eventually you'll have to break off onto a side trail. We'll take the horses as far as we can before it becomes too dangerous to ride."[/I]

And with that, he takes off into a trot, with Leon not far behind.

After lifting her hood to help block the sun from her eyes, she gives a sharp flick of the reins, making her way after them.

[isaiah. 5]

[FONT=Garamond][COLOR="#2F4F4F"]It was a brief pleasure to hear that he could in-fact have the entertainment he requested. Meanwhile, chatter was still being dispersed between people's mouths. The only one who hadn't been speaking was the girl. [I]Almost as awkward as me.[/I] Scaevus suggested. It wasn't too long after the group left that well-designed room before Syven, a well placed knight, had given them a brief about La Cierra in the echo-like hall. Scaevus was never one to fully pay attention towards a specific person or thing. His eyes wandered elsewhere, although he was still listening to the leader of the group.

Scaevus averted his eyes back to Syven when he mentioned the act of killing these undead animals. He shivered just a tad bit, and sighed after. Something about bashing heads in or cutting them off gave the lizard-man a chill in his spine. That did not mean that he was disgusted by the act, no. He had done it many times before... he just never really enjoyed the foul thing. Off they went; out the castle and into the area, or the stables, that their horses were ready at. One by one each member slid on & did their own things. The girl took longest to mount. She was acknowledging the saddle & the packs; she even put her own items into some of them. Scaevus noticed his own horse. It was burdened with the most luggage because of Scaevus' request. "Fucking.. ugh." He mumbled underneath the wind of the cool outside air.

It felt like ages before he could mount & ride. With a flick of the reins, the horse stood up & neighed so loudly Scaevus almost had to cover his ears to block the irritable noise. He looked off into the distance. Everyone was already riding. He had to catch up before he was to lose them. "Calm down horse! Don't be thinking I'm gunna' hurt you just because I look like a small dragon with no damn wings. Calm yourself... just... please go!" He flick the nice-smelling leather reins yet again. The horse obeyed nicely, and trailed off with a huff of protest. He slapped the reins once more to have the horse pick up its own speed. Scaevus was pleased when he had finally caught up with the others. He looked down when he felt the blood rush to his green cheeks in embarrassment. It wasn't very visible, though.[/COLOR][/FONT]

[Praetorian 4896]

Syven's head canted slightly to the left as he looked over his shoulder at Leonardo. There was no one discernible emotion on his face, rather it was a conglomeration of many that caused brows to pinch, the corners of his lips to rise, his eyes to narrow, and cheeks to retract. Eventually the odd expression is matched with a chuckle whose melody was the combination of sorrow and good humor. 

 

"Funny you should ask." The words seem less than humorous, his tone surprisingly bland. "La Cierra, of all things." Syven's facial features relaxed as he turned back to face over the saddle. 

 

He was going back to where it all started, he was going home. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd stopped by the town since the incident. However it would be the first time that he actually ventured into the depth of the town and stayed there for any period of time. It would be the first time that he stood among the poppies, the first time that he entered into any of the buildings... it would be the first time that he really let himself remember.

 

Unlike the poor citizens of La Cierra, Syven had been saved from the plague by happenstance. He simply had not been in the city at the time, having run an errand for the local baker. He had missed the horrors, never saw mashing teeth grinding down upon the lifeless flesh of his friends. No, what he saw was only the aftermath. The aftermath of inaction... the aftermath of his inaction. While there was no reason to think that his presence in the city would have made a difference... it could have. And really that was what it all boiled down to, La Cierra was his city of regrets.

 

Regrets, regrets that I keep reliving in this damned castle. They just keep dying, getting hurt, maimed and mauled. No matter what I do, it is never enough. It's like this whole damn island is destined to burn to the ground. Fucking cursed soil.

 

The trot of the horses carried them from castle to city and eventually city to forests edge. The steady clopping of hooves on stone breaking up the silence he'd been brooding in. 

 

"So, I don't suppose any of you have any experience with large game trapping?" The off handed question was tossed back as his horse slowed. The steady advance of the steed carrying him toward the right edge of the road.

[CasualCrisis 4521]

[box]In the Ellwood Forest[/box]

 

A single eye peered through a clouded sheet of blood at a world that was colored in shades of gray. It had a hard time focusing on anything specific, instead, it rolled about in a wide socket, from which it had begun to shrink out of due to a lack of fluid. Still, it managed to see the world though it made sense of little. The only thing that held any rhyme or reason was the overpowering smell of fresh blood, which was made all the stronger by the fact that the crimson nectar lined its tongue and was currently sliding down its throat along with half-chewed chunks of flesh picked off of a torn human thigh. It was as if it had forgotten the smell in the span of just a second or two while it lifted its head and saw through its half-blind eye out into the forest. But the uncontrollable hunger and urge for flesh was quick to reclaim what was left of its mind and so without a second thought the undead creature shoved its muzzle back into the tender open flesh of a sleeping human.

 

Through flaring nostrils, the creature snorted his displeasure with the whimpers and moans that escaped from the still sleeping human. It was a man who had fallen to the poppies and had been asleep in this field for a day now. It was by sheer chance that the undead unicorn had come across the scent and followed the trail here. From there it had been easy to use his incisors to tear away the material of the man’s trousers and rip into the flesh of his thigh. But the undead creature could not wonder if the man was having some horrible and painful nightmare in which he was being eaten alive. It could not wonder and that suited it just fine for all it really cared about was the bounty of living flesh upon which it was feasting.

 

The two thousand pound unicorn had lost a quarter of its weight through dehydration but it would make short work of adding some of that weight back on after it finished consuming the man, whom found merciful death after the creature bit and tore open his femoral artery. But this did little to deter the creature who feasted until there was little left of the man, at which point its attention was drawn by the sound of leaves rustling in the distant line of trees. Limping along, for one of its hind legs was missing a chunk of muscle, it walked slowly without purpose.

 

[spoiler][/spoiler]

[John 15]

Leon listened to Syven say that La Cierra was the reason why he became a knight. That didn't really fully answer Leon's question. Was it because he wanted to know more about this secret place? Or was there more history behind it? The mercenary had no idea who any of his party members were and what their background was. The young male let out a small sigh as he continued to ride his mount right behind their leader. He turned his head to face the only female member of their team. He had heard her talk maybe once, actually ... maybe not even once at all. He doesn't even recall anything. Leon was kind of just ... really oblivious to whatever was going on around him. " Hey you ... uh ... What's your name again? " He asked her, trying to be polite. He couldn't exactly find the right type of tone to not make it seem as rude as it sounded. He scratched the back of his head, his tan colored cheeks turned a rosy red. 

 

The party had reached the outskirts of the city, which was surrounded by lively green trees. The forest was filled with life and energy, but little did most people know that deep within this forest was one of the most deadliest places a man could encounter. These so-called poppies that Leon had little knowledge about was one of the most dangerous things about the forest. The trip was already becoming uneventful. Even though they had been riding only for a short amount of time, the mercenary's small attention span was getting the best of him. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the neck of his four legged friend and placed the side of his head against it. " How long till we're there? " Leon asked. He felt like he was the only person in the group who liked to talk. Everyone else seemed so ... introverted. Well, Syven was pretty loud at times, especially back in the castle.

 

" Hey Stilio, how are you holding up? "

 

Leon asked. He hadn't really had any interactions with the guy, so he might as well do it now. They all continued to ride out the city and into the forest. As they get just a bit further from the city entrance, Syven asked if anyone knew what large game trapping is. " No clue... " He admitted. It seemed like Leon was pretty clueless on most things.

[A Decadent Intruder 1]

As they rode on, Sida kept her eye always on the end of the road, occasionally glancing into the trees. It was rare that she headed out this far, so her surroundings were not very familiar.  From her side, she pulled a water skin and deftly uncapped it with one hand, taking a gulp and swishing it around her mouth before swallowing.
It was a beautiful day, the sky was clear and you could smell the vegetation and the earth as they traveled further down the road. She could hear the others chit chatting, but didn't pay much attention, until she felt a pair of eyes on her as she heard him speak.

 

"Hey you ... uh ... What's your name again? "

She pulled her gaze from the road and made eye contact with Leon, not much of an expression crossing her face, but her eyebrow raising just slightly. The way his words tumbled out and his cheeks reddened almost made her smirk.

"It was never given. But my name is Sida Finn. Though you seem like you're one for nicknames, so feel free to call me Sid."

Her voice was strong, and held more volume than you'd expect from a woman of her stature. Especially since she had yet to say a word to anyone besides her horse. Her expression wasn't unfriendly, but something about her face didn't make her seem very inviting either.

"You seem anxious. Is something wrong?"

A few beats after she asked her question, she heard Syven ask if anyone had any practice with large game trapping. In reply, she raised her voice to be heard by him as he lead them further down the road.

 

"Sir, I've had no formal training in trapping large animals, but as a hunter, I'm quite good at setting snares. Members of my family own farms and we've had to set out traps to keep out hungry predators. I might be of some assistance. What kind of animal would we be trying to trap exactly?"

She hoped what experience she did have would be helpful, but she had no idea what they were trying to hunt. Or perhaps what would be hunting them.
 

[Praetorian 4896]

As they trotted further along the trail, Syven's mind wandered. Of their group, he could safely say the woman was the only one he hadn't developed an issue with... yet. The lizard man clearly seemed unfit for the task at hand. His brief dialogue outlined his inability to assess situations or even come to terms with what was foolish and what was important. The male, Leon, appeared to suffer from ADD and acted like a smile child. This is why working with civilians was a nightmare, they had no discipline, no self control. Well all accept for the lady who addressed herself as Sida.

 

She was an introvert, if he had to guess. Although alternatively she could have been a trained soldier. She wasn't whining about entertainment or nagging about how long until they reached their destination. She was reserved, and rightfully so. There was no reason to trust anyone in the group, and there was no reason to develop long lasting friendships. There was a good chance at least one of them would end up dead, a better chance that this operation wouldn't last more than a few days, and it was completely plausible that they'd never meet each other again. So why risk situational awareness forging friendships with fodder? 

 

The knight's head shook from side to side. They weren't fodder, they were people. Even if he found them annoying that was no excuse to dehumanize them. Oddly his temperament had become increasingly bitter over the past few months, probably something to do with the stress of his work.

 

"We're going to ride until about an hour before sunset. From there we'll make a camp and wait out the night. After that it should only be a few more ours to the town. All in all I'm estimating four to five days. The longest part could potentially be finding the key."

 

Pulling the reigns to the side redirected his steed causing it to veer from the man road and off onto a side path that snaked through the woods. It'd been so long since he'd traveled this road.... hopefully it wasn't infested with poppies. The thought of incinerating them had crossed his mind.... briefly. The poppies were the only standing memorial to the events that had befallen his town. They were the graves of his friends and more importantly than all of that they were a strategic asset in the defense of Versilla. Destroying them, no matter how dangerous they were, would have been a foolish mistake.

 

"Anyway, Ms. Sida. I'm not completely sure yet. We might be trapping something the size of a small bear or the size of a large horse. Or... a bull."  Wolves, stags, unicorns, and bulls. Any of them could be undead, any number of them were undead. There was a huge variable here, something that he didn't particularly care for. The odds were unknown and while he didn't think that they could be so staked against him as to jeoprodize his chances of success, paranoia urged him to err on the side of caution.

 

"We are looking at game anywhere between a few hundred pounds to a couple tons." The effectiveness of snares was questionable, since rotting limbs could easily be snapped off. He'd need a way of locking up major joints.... binding bone to bone with the joint either fully extended or fully closed. A pit fall would be perfect for isolating and containing, but would take time to dig and was useless for transporting.

 

"What would you need for a snare?"

[John 15]

His rear started to get uncomfortable from sitting on the horse's saddle. The man would have rather walked and fatigued his legs, but this method of transportation was a lot faster than traveling on foot. He let out a small sigh as his mind wandered from creating certain events that could happen to them. They were already told that the undead resided in the forest or even unknown creatures. Leon imagined some kind of mysterious monster just coming out and attacking them. His swords were still on his sides, ready to be unsheathed. The mercenary wasn't exactly a master at using such weapons, but he could definitely hold his own. The man wasn't helpless. 

 

The only female of the group responded to his question. Her name was Sida, but followed her introduction with a nickname that she provided for Leon; how observant of her. It was Sid for short. The raven haired male gave her a thumbs up. His attention was drawn to the knight when he started speaking. They were going to be riding on this damn horse for a little while longer.

 

" Dang it... "

 

He whispered to himself, not caring at all if one of them heard him whining. He wasn't much to publicly show that kind of attitude, but he was starting to get uncomfortable on the steed. Syven mentioned that the longest part of this quest was trying to find the key. Leon had figured that out already since that was their goal from the start. 

 

" When we set up for camp .. will one person keep watch while the rest sleeps? Like .. taking turns or something? "

 

The thought of an enemy coming up and ambushing them during their sleep sort of haunted him. He was sure that the others would like that to not happen. Then he asked what they needed for a snare. If they wanted to catch something, a net would work. But, where would they get that? They would have to make one.

 

" A net? Or something similar to one? "

 

Leon suggested. It was possible to make one with vines and since they were in a forest, there was bound to be a collection of them. 

[A Decadent Intruder 1]

As they rode on, Sida ran a gloved hand through her short crop of hair, her eyes always on the horizon. The sun was getting lower in the sky, making it turn all shades of orange and pink. Against the green of the forest, the area really was beautiful. And then Syven's reply snapped her from her reverie.

They could be trapping something the size of a bull?
That was something she wasn't quite expecting. Bears she had dealt with in the past, and knew ways of snaring or entrapping them, but something as large as a horse or bull, she wasn't quite sure.

"For the types of snares I know how to set, all I need is young saplings or adolescent trees, and sticks. But they'll only hold something around the size of a bear cub, or a mountain lion. For something larger, I'd think only a barrier or trench of some kind could really stop them. That is, unless you've got bear traps."

 

The end of her remark came of somewhat flippantly, as she suspected they had no traps. You'd need more than just horses to haul any amount of bear traps. 

This quest was starting to sound more and more like an every-man-for-himself situation, with the odds piled against you. She knew her own skill well enough, but she hoped for their sake, that each of these people knew how to defend themselves.
She wasn't one to risk her life for that of a stranger.
 

[Praetorian 4896]

It didn't take a spectacular imagination for Syven to formulate the basic design of a snare based on Sida's requirements. Unfortunately it took equally less imagination to see the fundamental flaw with it.The type of snare she was most likely use to using probably ensnared a single leg and either locked it in place on the ground or attempt to lift the limb to an unusable angle. The design could probably be used to catch the animals head too. And while this basic design worked well for living animals, the dead would prove far harder to trap.

 

It was a pretty simple problem to understand. The undead had rotting flesh and muscle that failed to contribute to their locomotion. While disabling a muscle completely could hinder their advance, it wasn't enough. Ensnaring a leg would most likely result in the undead animal ripping it's leg off and leaving it in the snare as it advanced on them. Joint locks seemed to be the most viable options.  Maybe destroying the joints altogether was the best option. A jaw couldn't close if it's connection points were destroyed. A knee couldn't bend if the knee cap was obliterated.Something as simple as a wooden stake or two could be used to immobilize the neck and head by separating vertebra. The issue was how to do it, without getting bitten or mauled.The best bet might have been to knock the animal onto it's back. With any luck their brains were too far gone to figure out how to get back up.

 

"That's good. I should bring it up to the others." The knight murmured to himself. The implication was pretty simple. If the undead were immobilized on their back it would take away the need to behead them. This meant that victims could be stored indefinitely while a cure was searched for.

 

"Uh, yeah. When we stop to rest there will be someone acting as a look out... sorta." Leon's question was only partially answered, Syven had no intention of giving him more. The truth was something on the sinister side, something that he didn't feel the need to share with them. One if not more of them were going to be live bait on the ground, while he perched in a tree. It was a tried and true tactic used to hunt dangerous games. Set up decoy bait while the hunter waits to ambush the predator that is hunting the bait. Stilio of course had been his first choice for living bait, since he wanted to bang on drums and sing songs anyway. However it would have been impossible to convince a single person to stay on the forest floor by the camp fire while everyone else waited in trees.

 

Instead Syven would post up in a tree as a lookout while the other's sat around a camp fire acting as foolish as they pleased. However when danger came he wouldn't be giving them a warning. He'd wait until the last minute, when striking success was at its optimum, and then pounce on the would be predator. Speed and precision were his forte, so there was no doubt in his mind that he could do it. However them believing that he could or buying off on his plan was a different matter, one that he figured was best to not pursue. 

 

Direct the mount off the path and into the woods, his gaze turned back toward the other's. "When we stop I'll act as look out while you guys rest up. After four or five hours we'll switch. That way everyone can get some sleep. We'll all be able to sleep once we get to the town."

 

Looking forward again he spots the first signs of the poppies. Immediately he pulls back causing the horse to come to a stop. "On foot from here." His left leg swings over the horses flank as he then drops to the ground. Rummaging through the packs he grabs a handful of items before tying the horse off to a low hanging branch. Well... twig really. The expectation was that enough resistance would be provided to keep the animal from wandering off, however if danger came it'd easily be able to snap the chunk of wood it was bound to.

 

Once the other's had dismounted and grabbed whatever items they thought were necessary they'd head out again. Syven's left hand raising as he brought his index to level with a patch of poppies. "Those are it. Stay far away from them. From here on out, any time you think you see anything that even looks slightly like them, call it out. Same for movement. Doesn't matter if you aren't sure what it is, speak up. Last thing I want is for someone to get hurt because someone else decided not to speak up."

[John 15]

Syven decided to take the first watch when they set up camp for the night. It wasn't a bad idea. The most experienced out of all of them should probably take watch. When Syven's horse stopped moving, Leon stopped right next to him. At first he was going to ask what was wrong, but when he looked at the direction that he was looking, Leon understood. So those were the things they called poppies. 

 

On foot from here.

 

Finally! Leon had been itching to get off that steed for a long time now. He hopped off the four legged animal and grabbed the pack that was provided for them. He carried it on his back and adjusted it to make him comfortable. His weapons were sheathed and dangled on either side of him. Leon guided his horse next to Syven's and tied it on another branch that was not too far from the other.

 

Syven advised that they stay away from the poppies. If they weren't sure if one was a poppy, they should probably ask. Better to ask and stay alive rather than ending up dead. 

 

" Well ... Here we go, I guess. "

 

Leon let out a small sigh. He wasn't really nervous. It was almost a feeling of excitement, actually. Leon couldn't wait to get into town. Hopefully they would stay in an inn to sleep on a real bed. He waited for Syven to lead the way. Knowing Leon, he'd probably guide them right into a field of poppies.

[CasualCrisis 4521]

For a moment it stopped. The tender flesh was gone and he had reached bone—thick bone, with blood pouring on all sides. It lifted its mighty head and gazed down at the body. It was cold now and dead, the man looked pale and wore a look of torment, which the unicorn could not understand. Instead, the massive creature took a few steps forward and brought its muzzle down near the man’s face. The nose produced an odd sound when it was bit into and ripped from the face, but it was deliciously crunchy and wet. It was only unfortunate that it was no longer warm.

 

With a gaping hole in its face, the dead man made an odd wheezing sound as the last of the air in its lungs escaped slowly past thin sheets of blood and flesh. Again, displeased by this sound, the unicorn dipped his head and tore apart the man’s cheeks. It was quite frustrating that he couldn’t get to the eyeballs—he had tasted them once or twice and found that their particular texture pleased him the most. He tried, with a hoof, to step on the creature’s forehead and managed only to crush the skull and break the yoke-like eyeball. Unwilling or perhaps unable to let this go to waste, the creature bowed his head low and lapped up the gooey white substance from between the oddly shaped pieces of skull fragments that littered the tender flesh.

 

The brain was harder to get to, but still he managed by poking at the remains with his horn. Still pink, and still warm, he devoured what he found until there was no more and the inside curve of the skull was all but licked clean. Next would come the belly and the rope of entrails just beneath the skin and thin layer of fat, but a noise caused his ears to flicker and a resonating sense of urgency to return to his still brain.

 

Sound meant life and life meant warm flesh…

 

He whined, which was more of a gargling sound due to the flesh still caught in his throat. Angrily he huffed at the body he had half devoured and stepped over it—following the sound. 

[Praetorian 4896]

Trudging forward along the path, Syven's right hand fell upon the hilt of his rapier. The gloved limb palmed the sword a few times before settling comfortably, abaft the guard, to rest. His mind once more wandering as he trekked further along the trail, with those who still followed. Leather boots slapped the dust and debris laden ground, causing loose chunks of inconsistent size and make to hurl up from beneath his heels. The path that they followed had originally been well worn. However in the time sense the incident it had fallen to disuse and nature had begun to reclaim it. The once straight edges that marked the road were well worn and broken. Flowers, weeds, and roots intercepted, bisected, and heaved up chunks of road. The once perfectly flat surface was now a grand landscape of micro mountains, valleys, and canyons. Rises and falls of no greater than a foot plagued nearly every step and this accompanied with wild roots and plants sprouting up sporadically made the walk all the more tedious and slow.

 

And yet the knight transverses the terrain with no thought nor hesitance. Each root is masterfully stepped over, every dip negotiated, and ever obstacle overcome. In fact his ability to effortlessly avoid the slips, trips, and falls cannot truly be appreciated until mental insight is gained. His body operates on auto-pilot, his mind elsewhere in the world. Although the shapes and symbols of the path are acknowledged as familiar shadows and patterns, his brain registers them as nothing more. It is a mental shortcut, a tool used to minimize the thought power needed to walk while maximizing mental faculties for other projects.

 

In Syven's case, his mind is busy contemplating the last time the trail was used. Pondering how many people tried to return to the town only to succumb to the poppies... and more importantly how in the vast vast world of Valucre had these undead beasts escaped his wrath thus far. His best answer? Enough ignorant travelers had fallen victims to the poppies to keep the undead monsters fed and occupied, thus why they had yet to wander elsewhere. But how many where there? How could he possibly round them all up to dispose of them? There were certain things, logistical things, that he simply didn't have the answer to yet. And while this trip wouldn't lead to the forest being freed from undead occupation, it might possibly lead to futures investments to the cause.

 

"All I have to do is catch one." The statement is made loud enough that the other party members might very well hear, although the combination of matter of fact speech with whimsical tone would hardly leave them with any finite answers as to what he spoke of. "Preferably alive... err undead." The correction is hastily made as he looks over his shoulder to ensure that he is still being followed.